


Sub Mea Umbra

by exonomics



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Drama, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Psychological Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 16:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8020348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exonomics/pseuds/exonomics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baekhyun just wants to escape to the light, but Jongin is pulling him back to the shadows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sub Mea Umbra

**Author's Note:**

> One of the most challenging fics to write, but one I'm really proud of. Originally posted August 21, 2013.

Baekhyun had always thought himself to live in shadows, rather than light. 

In the early mornings, when traffic is heavy and morning breaks from behind skyscrapers, he walks to school. The soft morning light will shine down on him, casting shadows along the sidewalk, lazily following behind.  

Walking home from late night study sessions or escapes from reality are lit from shady street lamps long forgotten and convenience stores desperate for income. Hues of reds and oranges and greens and yellows filter through the cool autumn air, casting colorful shapes onto dilapidated structures, and creating a distorted replica of his self along brick walls.

 A mind lost in thought is painted with shadows, thoughts bubbling and brewing into thick hazes that can rarely be seen through, which Baekhyun most appreciates. He doesn't need anyone trying to pick through his innermost secrets. 

_No one should see what lies in there._

He prefers his silence, his identity as a wallflower, favoring to live amongst the shadows of others who are more deserving of the light.

But as darkness creeps from behind, forming his shadow into monstrous forms and horrid creatures, Baekhyun only wishes to be let into the light, to escape from the darkness more foul than his own. To be free of this shadow that will never, ever leave him. The shadow will continue to latch on to his very existence, until he surrenders to the darkness that hides within.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

{ IN MY SHADOW }

 

 

Being a psychology major gives you a bit of an edge when it comes to dealing with mental functions and what to do when you feel like shit. Professor Hwang always suggests looking at the positives in life, and focusing on what has gone well in your day despite the negative reactions from social interactions or inner conflicts.  
  
So when the assignment is given at the end of the class Baekhyun writes down:

 

_A day in the life of Byun Baekhyun, psychology major and honors student:_

"After long weeks of reviews and assignments and long meetings after class, Dr. Hwang gives his hard earned research paper about acrophobia an “A,” calling it groundbreaking and enthusiastic. Classes end early that afternoon, the professor being in good spirits from the reports and finally getting laid from his wife or his mistress, the one the girls chatter about in the back of the classroom when the professor’s back is turned. There’s a seat just for him on the bus, and it skips two stops to get him home before Joonmyun leaves for his night shift at the library. The elder congratulates him on his ‘A,’ and mentions that his pay has been docked one hundred thousand won for good behavior. Smiling to himself on a job well done, he makes his way up to his room, pleasantly smiling at the package of food left from his neighbors as a way of apologizing for late night activities that keep him up. He eats a feast of beef and mixed rice, before going out to meet up with friends at a local club, partying until the early hours of the morning." 

           

Baekhyun can't even laugh at his misery, the overbearing weight of reality too much for his lungs. But it's better than what he would have wrote if he had told the truth, because really:

 

_A day in the life of Byun Baekhyun, he who the Gods give no fucks:_

Paper gets a “C-“, not enough thought or emotion. Grade is settling just above failing.

Comes home two hours late then bus breaks down three stops in. Have to wait for a replacement.

Miss Joonmyun on his way out of the building. Misses payment for the third time this year. Expect bitter confrontation next morning.

Miss elevator, goes up to the 32nd floor. Takes stairs despite ache in feet and lower back.

Forget keys on desk in class. Asks Lee Ahjumma and Ahjussi for spare. Neighbors pissed at disturbance.

Open fridge, remembers that groceries were needed. Decides that dinner isn’t worth it tonight.

Looks at contact list, remembers friends are nonexistent. Stays home to fantasize about his day and wallow in misery. 

 

Not that his professor wants to hear about his student's failing social life, he would much rather live in the fantasy of having perfectly capable pupils that will one day have the mental capacity to take on the problems of others.  
  
Baekhyun lets him live in that fantasy. Who is he to burst his teacher’s completely irrational bubble?

Settling back into his chair, he stretches his arms over his head, feeling content enough with his bullshit excuse of a journal entry. Hopefully Dr. Hwang neglects to collect this assignment.

Said professor, standing in front of the lecture hall pretending not to be on his cell phone, rings a small golden bell on his podium, signaling the end of free write. “Time’s up!” he calls, brass voice echoing through the silent walls. “Before everyone packs up and goes-” he says, eyeing two seniors ready to dash out of the door, “-I need to select partners for this semester’s term project.”

A collected groan escapes the student body. The inevitable - but always hoped to be forgotten about – Psychology 356 term project. Throughout Baekhyun’s three years at the university, it has been responsible for the drop out of three senior psychology majors, the break-up of two life-long friendships, and the attempted suicide of one sophomore student from Busan and the hospitalization of his partner. Nothing good has ever come out of it, so why does Dr. Hwang keep bringing it up?

 _Because he’s a sadistic bastard that feeds of off student’s sanity_ , Baekhyun thinks to himself as the professor in question takes out a hat, no doubt filled with slips of names (not that Baekhyun can see much from his position in the last row in the far left corner).

Though indeed, the professor holds up the hat as if it’s the body of Christ, here to save the one hundred students from damnation. “I’ll be picking out names for partners. Please keep track of who you are working with, because I won’t.”

_Well fuck you, too._

 And Baekhyun sits back and waits to be judged.

Names are thrown into the air, half of them Baekhyun has never even heard of. He's up to sixteen pairs before he decides he best start getting packed up, not wanting to risk being late to the bus that will take him home. He has to talk to Joonmyun anyway, hoping that if he begs hard enough that he can save his ass from being evicted or-

“Byun Baekhyun!”

At the sound of his name, he sits straight up, not used to hearing the teacher openly call out to him, preferring to blend in the back and observe rather than participate. He even notices the look of surprise on Dr. Hwang’s face when the latter realizes that there is indeed a student by the name of Byun in his class that doesn’t just hand in papers. The look only lasts for a second, as he reaches in for another name.

Baekhyun now realizes he’s holding his breath.

“Park Chanyeol!”

A boy sitting in the front row with an innocent face and the most unruly hair Baekhyun has ever seen turns around, giving him a quick once over before smiling and giving the former a friendly wave.

He’s so flustered by the unexpected greeting that he doesn’t notice the flutter of movement outside of the door.           

 

 

 

__

 

 

 

“-and how do you feel about something like psychosis?”

Again, Baekhyun shrugs his shoulders, choosing to focus his attention on a string found hanging loose on his shirt, wrapping it so tightly around his finger that the tip turns an angry red. “Don’t care,” he mumbles, not even bothering to look up at his partner.

He hears the boy across from him sigh  _– Chanyeol_ , he reminds himself – and put down his pencil. “Look dude-“

“ _Baekhyun_ ,” he murmurs.

“Right, Baekhyun…umm…I would really like your opinion on this…it’s a pretty big grade and all…” Chanyeol awkwardly trails off, realizing that his partner just doesn’t care. “Okay then…”

The two falls into an awkward silence, the sound of fall leaves rustling outside and constant chatter from two librarians in the corner are the only thing coming between them. Baekhyun continues to play with the string while Chanyeol just taps the table trying to find some form or rhythm.

“So…what year are you?”

He loosens the string around his finger and it furiously pulses blood back to the tip. “Junior,” he simply answers, not too practiced in the art of friendly conversation.

Chanyeol brightens at this. “Oh! We’re in the same grade!” he says, a little too enthused for Baekhyun’s taste, though he does like the way the other’s eyes light up when getting excited. “You’re twenty then?”

The string falls out of Baekhyun’s hand, disappearing into the carpet below. He silently laments over losing his source of distraction from Chanyeol. Sighing, he picks up his pencil and begins to tap it on his thigh. “Twenty-one,” he corrects, in reference to Chanyeol’s question. He looks up, feeling amused as he watches Chanyeol piece together the information.

“So…does that mean you’re just old for the grade?” the other male pries, obviously confused.

Baekhyun shrugs, playing off his casual and disinterested air. “I just took a year off.”

“Oh…well…it’s good to relax and not have to worry about anything, right?” Chanyeol smiles and the elder takes notice of how his right eye twitches ever so slightly.

Baekhyun just hums in response and goes back to tapping. He doesn’t feel like talking today.      

 

 

 

__

 

 

 

Later that night, after an hour-long bus ride filled with chattering commuters on their way home, Baekhyun walks the empty street, enjoying the cooling weather nipping at his nose and the gentle humming of life going on around him. Shortcuts through busier streets are overlooked to favor quieter roads and darker lights.

But tonight as he walks through the shadows, mindlessly kicking pebbles to occupy the time, he swears he hears someone across the street matching his pace: slow and unhurried, disinterested and bored—simply admiring the walk, appreciating the view.

But when he looks there are just the shadows, dancing against the wall.

 

 

__

 

 

 

Morning beckons through streaks of sunlight through his shitty windows and dusty shades.

Not that Baekhyun was soundly sleeping; he was spending most of the night rolling around the sheets, never finding a soft enough spot to get comfortable in. By the time his clock read 2:09 AM, he had given up on sleep and spent the remainder of the night steadily breathing and fixating his gaze on a dark spot on his wall. And now that daybreak is here and the clock reads 5:58 AM, he might as well get up and get some form of breakfast. His refrigerator is still as empty as his stomach.

So he lazily rolls out of bed, throwing on a pair of sweats and a nicer looking tee shirt before heading out, not bothering to check is appearance in the mirror over his nightstand. He could do without the shock of dark circles under his eyes.

The convenience store down the block is pretty shady at first glance, neon signs losing their luster, windows covered in dust and dirt, awning falling apart in tattered shreds. But the old widowed ahjumma that works the register is kind to Baekhyun, and lets him off with a free coffee now and then, so he keeps going back, more for her sake than his.

When he enters the bell on top rings, and the ahjumma looks up from the newspaper she had her nose in to smile. “Early today, aren’t we?” she asks. Her voice wavers and her breath catches and Baekhyun gives her five months before she keels over, but he politely smiles back and heads to the aisle filled with refrigerated goods.

It’s freezing and he momentarily wishes he had brought a sweatshirt or something, so he hastily grabs a carton of milk before the cold can get to him. As he closes the door he sees a flurry of movement out of the corner of his eye, a splash of black against the white walls of the store.

He blinks.

He could have sworn he was the only person in the store.

But there definitely was someone who had just turned the corner of the aisle, making his or her way back up to the register.

“Fucking creep…” Baekhyun mumbles to himself, rearranging the milk in his grasp so he doesn’t have to hold on to the cold carton for too long. He doesn’t want to deal with creeps or perverts this early in the morning. Besides, he has another meeting with Chanyeol this afternoon after classes.

As he puts the milk and a few sad packs of instant ramen on the table to be rung out, the ahjumma mentions how lonely she is during the early mornings. “There’s really no one who walks in at this hour,” she says softly, breathing still labored as she scans his items.

“Well, that other guy is still walking around here,” Baekhyun offers back.

She raises an eyebrow. “What other guy?”

Baekhyun turns to find the person in the black shirt, but there’s no one else there.

           

 

 

 

 

_…isn’t that strange?_

           

 

_

 

 

 

 

The voices sound like him.

They start soft like whispers and sharp like knives, cutting through Baekhyun with each syllable.

 

 

 _Watching you smile_ …

 

 

He had pushed him away.

Locked him up.

 

 

 

 _Watching you blush_ …

 

 

 

Threw away the key.

Ended it all.

 

 

 

 _Watching you sleep_ …

 

 

 

So why is he back?

 

 

 

__

 

 

 

“So are we focusing on the tackier social isolation, or do we want play around with sumptuous delusions?”

“Can you not talk like that? It sounds like you’re getting off from this.”

“Some people enjoy that kind of shit.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to his origami masterpiece, delicately folding the last edges of paper to finish the crane’s wings. For the past hour he’s been mindlessly nodding along with Chanyeol’s vocal thoughts (“yes, sure, sounds good,  _mhmm_ , whatever is best, good…”) and playing with his blank sheet of paper he was supposed to write notes on, finding paper cranes more interesting than schizophrenia (and certainly more interesting than Park Chanyeol).

Besides, he already knows too much for a lifetime.

            Schizophrenia:

                        Social Disorder

                        Isolation

                        Delusions

                        Psychosis

                        Changing someone you thought you knew into a monster.

                        Pushing someone to his  _limits_.

                         _Pushing someone to their-_

 

“Hey! Baekhyun! Earth to Baekhyun! Come in Baekhyun!” Chanyeol waves his hands in front of Baekhyun’s eyes, trying to get the elder’s attention.

Jolting out of his trance, Baekhyun squeaks in surprise, hands defensively coming up to push Chanyeol away. “Go away!” he yells, a little too loud and dramatic for the library’s coffee spot, but he doesn’t give a fuck. His heart is pounding and is breathing is ragged and-

 

 

_I’m sorry I hurt you._

 

 

 

 He almost went  _there_ but-

“Dude, relax, I didn’t even touch you,” Chanyeol says, eyes furrowed. He gives Baekhyun a once-over. “Are you alright?”

 ~~No~~  “I’m fine,” he says, putting his hand over his heart and commanding it to  _calm the fuck down_.

“No, I mean…are you  _alright_?” he asks again, as if Baekhyun should know what the hell he’s talking about.

“The fuck does that even  _mean_?” Baekhyun shoots back, ignoring the warning going off in the back of his head, “Danger! Danger! Probing! Do Not Converse!”

“Like…is there something you need to talk about-“

 

 

_I’m sorry I yelled at you._

 

 

 

“ _No_ ,” Baekhyun firmly says. “ _Leave me alone_.” Chanyeol opens his mouth to say something, but Baekhyun ignores whatever pleads he hears, furiously gathering his pack and darting through the rows of books to the exit. He doesn’t need probing. He has this thoughts right where he wants them: far away and long forgotten. He doesn’t need to think of his shadow.

He just wants to be left alone.

But Baekhyun guesses that others can’t take the hint.

He is pulled back into the rows of books by a strong grip, nearly toppling over from the surprising force. Chanyeol keeps a hold of his arm as the taller drags him deeper through the rows of books, despite his own protests and threats of violence.

“Let me go! I just want to be left  _alone_!” Why is that so hard for people to understand? He tries to wiggle out of Chanyeol’s grasp, but the younger just holds tighter.

“Just hear me out!” He begs, and Baekhyun has half a mind to punch him in the face, but because  ~~Chanyeol’s genuinely sorry~~  he can’t move anyway, he relaxes and waits for Chanyeol’s reply.

“I didn’t mean to upset you!” the younger says quickly, rushing through his words before Baekhyun can dart off again. “I’m sorry if what I said offended you, I-I…I’m sorry-”

 

 

_I just want you back._

 

 

 

“I just…” the younger continues, sheepishly running his fingers through his hair, “Sometimes I over analyze things, ya know? Like…I don’t know…I tend to think I can read people really well and with all the psychology classes I’ve been taking it doesn’t really help and-“ He goes on and on and Baekhyun really just wants him to shut up now, people are starting to stare at this six foot freak shouting in the library.

“Its fine,” Baekhyun mumbles, hoping his soft voice will calm the younger down and stop him from garnering looks.

It doesn’t.

“No, it’s not, I must have said something to really piss you off, I’m so sorry…” His eye twitches again as he bites his lips, thinking, before he breaks out into a huge grin and Baekhyun wonders if he’ll need sunglasses. “Let me make it up to you!”

Baekhyun falters a bit. “O-oh no, that’s okay, really, you don’t need to-“

“No, no! Let me! I can…I can…” Chanyeol pauses, raking through his brain to find some acceptable form of apology for the elder. “…Take you out to eat sometime?”

Baekhyun nearly falls over. “ _No_!” he practically screams, far too dramatic for this time or place.

The younger’s eyes widen and he puts up his hands again in case Baekhyun tries to make a break for it. “No! No! We don’t have to get food! We could….um…go to a movie?”

Baekhyun shakes his head frantically and tries to keep calm, deeply breathing through his nose. “No, I don’t want to do anything,” he sighs and looks up at the taller. “I don’t do dates.”

Chanyeol can’t mask the disappointment in his eyes. “Oh…” he deflates, shoulders sagging. “W-we…It doesn’t have to be a… _date_ …it could be…”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to.” He feels an unusual stab of guilt course through his body upon seeing the other’s disappointment. He never cared before. He blames social interaction. He shouldn’t have started talking.

But he opens his mouth again anyway. “I-um…I’ll see you tomorrow then…same time?”

           

 

__

 

 

 

The ride home is quiet.

Never used to taking the bus this late, Baekhyun almost feels uncomfortable in the silence. There’s only him and the driver riding through the last few stops on the 011 line.  Usually the bus is packed with commuters on their way home from work or school. Sometimes there isn’t even a seat for Baekhyun to sit in, leaving him unbalanced and hanging on the railing for dear life. But he prefers the loud, boisterous crowd than the silence.

At least he can’t hear himself think.

Sighing and shaking his head, he tries to ease his mind by looking out the window, watching neon lights and colorful signs pass by, blurring together in a lovely euphoria. He lets his eyes focus on random faces on the street, tries to count how many girls are wearing red, how many men are passed out on the sidewalk, how many shops are advertising for the holidays, how many families are together, how many couples, how many lovers staring longingly at each other, how many are not…

He’s jerked out of his seat as the bus comes to a harsh stop, toppling over into the seat next to him. “ _Fuck_ ,” he grits out of his teeth, rubbing his raw elbow.

“Sorry kid,” the drive says, looking at him through the rear-view mirror. “Almost missed your stop. Kind of forgot you were there.” He offers no other form of apology. He simply opens the door and silently asks Baekhyun to get out. The latter huffs, but quickly presses all of his belongings into his chest and steps out of the bus, watching it pull away in haste.

“Douche…” Baekhyun mumbles, wishing he could flip the diver off, but his things weigh his hands down. He chooses to instead stomp off home. He needs rest anyway after a long day.

Thankful he remembered his key this morning, he grabs his mail and trips into his apartment, choosing to keep the lights off, liking how the glow of the stove clock illuminate the room with a soft green.

And as he shuffles through this month’s collection of bills and letters and friendly reminders from Joonmyun and fucks not given, Baekhyun barely picks up the scent of smoke coming from inside his bedroom, soft and subtle that should have gone unnoticed – If Baekhyun was a smoker.

Which means someone else is in the dorm too.

 

 

 

             _Seeing you in person is better_

_Than not seeing you at all!_

 

 

 

 

He drops the mail.

_No._

_It can’t be._

Floorboards creaking, thin walls squeaking, he turns to his room, realizing that there’s a light on.

 _This is not happening_.

Dizzy.

He feels dizzy.

His head is spinning and his knees are buckling and this is not happening right now because – because -  _just because._

Feeling nauseous, he falls against the wall, staring at the door handle and humors the thought of it being his brother or his parents or Joonmyun or _someone_  or-

He holds his breath and opens the door.

He’s sitting crossed legged on the bed, long fingers wrapped around a cigarette while the other hand softly caresses the fabric underneath, a smile inviting the other male foreword.

“How was your day?” Jongin asks.

Baekhyun screams.

           

 

 

___

 

 

 

            _Gee Gee Gee Gee Baby Baby Baby_

_Gee Gee Gee Gee Baby Baby Baby_

 

He screams in surprise, rolling off of the couch and onto the floor. “ _Shit_ ,” he hisses, fumbling around underneath the blanket, reaching for his phone and desperately willing the embarrassing music to shut off. He makes a mental note to  ~~eventually~~  change his ringtone before answering it with a groggy, “ _Hello_?”

“Uh, hi, uh…Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun groans. He forgot he gave Park Chanyeol his phone number.

“Y-yes?” he answers, yawning loudly before stretching his arms over his head. He must have dozed off after getting off the bus…but wait… _that means_ …

“Oh, hi. It’s Chanyeol. Um…just wondering where you are, you missed class earlier and I was-“

“ _Oh shit_!”

Baekhyun scrambles up from the floor, groaning even louder when he sees the clock on the stove reads “11:23 AM.” He missed Psychology and is about to be late for another PSYC class and  _why does the world hate him_? “ _Fuck_!” he wails into the phone as he runs into his room and picks up what he hopes are clean clothes. “I’ll be there in like fifteen minutes!” He hangs up before Chanyeol can respond, throwing his phone onto the mattress as he wiggles into a semi-clean shirt and jeans. He throws on socks and is in the process of putting on shoes while he reaches for his phone again next to the ashtray, hoping that if he calls his professor to let him know that -

He freezes.

There wasn’t an ashtray yesterday. He doesn’t smoke.

_But Jongin does._

           

 

 

_…It all makes me so happy!_

             

 

 

“Sorry about the mess,” he says from Baekhyun’s closet, frowning at the mess of ashes. Crossed-legged on the floor, he flips through the box of locked up memories Baekhyun placed there months ago. His fingers dance along the newspaper clippings and pictures and paper before stopping on one sheet in particular. Jongin smiles, his face lightening up. “You kept it!” he says happily, waving the paper in the air.

Baekhyun slams the door so hard the paint chips around the frame.

 

 

___

 

 

 

“I’m so sorry, I must have fallen back asleep this morning and missed my second alarm, I swear, sir, it won’t happen again-“

Dr. Hwang holds up his hand and Baekhyun shuts his mouth. He’s definitely done too much talking.

“Baekhyun-ssi, I can accept your apology and your promise that it won’t happen again-“He gives a stern eye, “But I still can’t change the policy for one student. I’m sorry, but it’s five points off your report.”

Baekhyun bites back a groan. He can’t afford to lose five points off of his final paper. That’s the difference between passing the course and failing.

“Although…” Dr. Hwang continues, running his hands through his neatly trimmed beard. “Is there anything you need to talk about?”

_What._

“Uh…no?” he responds, uncertain of what his professor is asking.  _Does everyone here think I have a problem?_ He thinks. First Chanyeol, now Dr. Hwang. Next his mother will call him asking if he needs a fucking backrub.

“Not meaning to intrude of course,” the elder says, standing upright and walking back towards his desk. “You’ve been quiet ever since the semester started, and at times you seem anxious. I just want to make sure you’re in good health,” he pauses as he sinks into his chair. “If you ever need to talk to anyone, I’m here.”

He’s hasn’t gotten this kind of attention since last year, and the thought of opening up again almost hurts to think about. So Baekhyun shakes his head, politely declining, even though the pit in his stomach doesn’t go away.

Thankfully, Dr. Hwang doesn’t press further, simply nodding his head knowingly. “Just in case then,” he says, and Baekhyun bows before climbing up the stairs of the hall.

 

 

__

 

          

 

Chanyeol had asked him to meet at the campus café instead of the library this afternoon. Part of Baekhyun is thankful; at least things won’t be as awkward with all of the students around.

The younger is sitting at one of the middle tables, two cups of coffee in front of him and what looks like their psychology textbook open. Baekhyun shuffles past the mob of students looking for seats, and slides somewhat haphazardly into the seat across from Chanyeol. It actually takes a moment for the younger to realize he was sitting across from him.

“Oh! I didn’t notice you there!” he half shrieks, jolting in alarm over the new presence. Some kids at another table give them a look and Baekhyun contemplates leaving now before things get worse. He actually starts to get up, but Chanyeol pushes one of the cups of coffee towards him. “I, uh, didn’t know what you liked, so I got you a caramel latté…um…’cause that’s my favorite so…” he gives Baekhyun a sort of grimace, “I hope you like it too?”

To be honest Baekhyun fucking hates caramel with a burning passion, but at the mention of caffeine his body buzzes, so he reluctantly takes a sip and hopes he won’t gag.

“So, um. You overslept then?” Chanyeol asks slowly, knowing that he’s treading on dangerous waters.

Too afraid that if he opens his mouth he’ll vomit caramel on the table, Baekhyun nods while forcing the sweet drink down his throat.  _Gross_. “Alarm didn’t go off,” he chokes out. He’ll have to mention to Chanyeol that he prefers mint.

The latter offers a smile. “That’s happened to me before. Slept right through second period-” Baekhyun wonders how someone can have that large of a smile and not consume the whole face, “-And Dr. Lee had me write an essay about tardiness and student’s mental health and-“

“ _Holy shit_ , does he ever shut up?”

Baekhyun jumps in his seat, letting out a cry of surprise and knocking over his drink in the process. The cool liquid feels harsh against the heat of his skin, threatening to boil over any second, and Baekhyun thinks he may actually lose consciousness this time. Chanyeol is quick to act—grabbing napkins and moving his textbook—but the elder stay frozen in his seat, paralyzed from disbelief and from  _fear_.

“Eh, he’s pretty cute though. But of course-” Jongin's voice says, chuckling to himself from the seat behind Baekhyun, “-he’s not as cute as you, Hyunnie.”

 

 

 

 _I just wanted to let you know_ …

 

 

 

Baekhyun feels hot breath on his neck, feels hot hands around his throat, hears heated screams in his ear, feels his breathing hitch and his eyes water and he blacks out to the sound of Jongin laughing.

 

 

__

 

 

 

The nurse in the infirmary blames near malnutrition and stress, mixed with a lack of sleep.

“With blood sugar that low, it’s a wonder you didn’t pass out earlier,” she clucks, shoving another cup of orange juice into Baekhyun’s hand before he could protest. “Drink,” she insists, before scurrying around the small cubicle, neatening blankets and pillows for him to rest on. “Haven’t had a proper meal in weeks, what kind of lessons is this school teaching?” she mumbles to herself, before walking out of the cubicle and shutting the curtain.  “It’s a good thing your friend brought you in here!” she calls, and Baekhyun really does protest to that.  He and Chanyeol aren’t friends. But she’s not listening anymore, having turning her attention to someone else who has just walked in.

Baekhyun sighs before drinking, taking in sweet juice sip by sip. He does feel a little better, if anything.

Low blood sugar. Stress. Insomnia.

It’s a perfectly sane and perfectly plausible reason.

His mind is playing tricks on him from overuse. Nothing more.

Soon the voices will go away and so will Jongin and he can get on with his life.

 

 

__

 

 

 

“Chanyeol, for the last time, I’m fine-“

“It’s really not a problem! I can stop by and bring you something-“

Baekhyun sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He wonders what kind of shit he did in a past life to deserve this. He just wants to be left alone. “No thank you,” he pauses before rolling his eyes and saying, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” He doesn’t wait for Chanyeol’s answer before hanging up and throwing his phone into his pack.

As he walks down the hall on his floor, he takes deep breaths.  _Low blood sugar, stress, and no sleep_ , he chants like a mantra.  _That’s all it is._  Keys unlock the door, slowly turning the knob, stepping into the room.

He’s sitting on the couch with a magazine in hand, tapping a pencil against his thigh in thought. Wearing a black tee over tattered jeans and basketball sneakers, he would be easily mistaken for an average kid, perhaps a bit too good looking to be just anyone. His hair is still the same dyed brown Baekhyun remembers, though his skin is paler than before. 

“Hey,” he calls casually, not looking up from the magazine. “Do you know a four letter word for ‘bond’? It’s fucking me up for the third section.”

Not sure if he should talk to his apparent hallucination or not, Baekhyun simply shrugs his shoulders, removing his jacket and throwing it overtop a chair as he walks past Jongin to the kitchen. He knees are shaking and his palms are sweating and he’s fucking frightened to see Jongin again, but he keeps his composure clean.  _Low blood sugar, stress, and no sleep_.

“Your milk expired,” Jongin says from the couch, tone still bored and disinterested. “And so did the case of spam in your left hand cabinet.” He scrunches in face in disgust. “I can’t believe you eat that shit.”

Again, Baekhyun doesn’t answer. Instead, he goes about his usual routine, pouring a glass of cola (the milk has expired) and laying out his books on the small kitchen table to make it look like he’s a good student. It works well enough to even convince himself. He sits down in a cheap piece of plastic and flips through some pages, eyes wondering over  _human conditions_ and  _social normal_ and-

“ _Hyunnie_ ,”

Jongin is sitting across the table, lips pouting and eyes large and innocent. “Why are you ignoring me?” he asks like a five-year-old. He leans over the table to try and grab Baekhyun’s hand, but the elder pulls it back quickly, just out of reach. “ _Why_?” he whines again, “I came all the way here just for you to ignore me?”

Baekhyun clenches a fist in his lap. “Y-you’re not real,” he says, almost as controlled and confident like he meant. His palms are still sweating and he’s glad he’s seated or else Jongin would see him shaking. But he keeps his head held eye, and looks directly into Jongin’s eyes.

“You’re not real,” he says again, this time louder.

And Jongin just laughs, eyes crinkling into crescent moons. “Of course I’m real!” Sliding out from the chair, he skips over to Baekhyun’s side and leans over, blowing hot air onto the elder’s cheek. “I came all the way back just to see you,” he says softly before kissing Baekhyun’s cheek.

It’s still as cold as Baekhyun remembers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“-Baek? Are you in there?” Another knock on the door sounds, but Baekhyun makes no attempt to get up from his seat.

 

 

 

_I know you’re mad at me…_

           

 

 

He felt Jongin.

He  _felt_  him.

There was no denying that Baekhyun felt the press of cold lips against his cheek, body heat radiating off of something near and most definitely  _there_. But it couldn’t be.

Jongin really wasn’t here with him.

 

 

_…but please…_

 

 

 

_Wasn’t he?_

The knocks on the door get louder. “Baekhyun! It’s Chanyeol! The man downstairs said you were in…”

Slowly getting up from his seat, he trudges his way over to the door, mindlessly working through the actions of turning the knob and revealing his partner on the other side.

“O-oh! There you are!” Chanyeol says in surprise. “I-uh….you left one of your books in the infirmary so the nurse wanted me to bring it…” He trails off, momentarily pausing before asking, “Are you okay? Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun hums, blinking. “Wha…?” He hadn’t listened to a word Chanyeol said, mind too preoccupied on other matters.

“Are you okay? You look really…” Chanyeol leans down, closing in on Baekhyun’s face, “… _pale_ ,” he finishes.

“Oh…I didn’t notice…” Baekhyun says softly, still not all there mentally. Though now he does feel himself shaking. From the back of his mind, he worries he may pass out again.

Chanyeol retracts. “Maybe you should lie down,” he suggests, opening the door wider so he can step in. But then Baekhyun snaps, pushing Chanyeol back into the hallway and away from the room.

“No!” he shouts, slamming the door behind him. “Y-you can’t go in.”

Eyes like saucers, Chanyeol asks, “Are you  _sure_  you’re alright?”

Baekhyun bites his lips and nods. “I’m fine…it’s just …stress.” That sounds like a good enough reason. And it’s not entirely a lie. But Chanyeol doesn’t look convinced, so Baekhyun bites his lips again, thinking of another reason to keep Chanyeol out of his apartment and away from  _him_. “Uh-I…um…do you wanna get something to eat?” he forces out, mentally kicking himself.  _Of all the things to ask_ … he thinks.

But Chanyeol’s eyes widen more, and a smile finds its way to his lips. “Uh, really?” he excitedly asks, to which Baekhyun fervently nods.

Anything to get away from here.

 

 

 

 

__

 

 

 

Awkward doesn’t even begin to describe how Baekhyun feels at the moment.

Chanyeol is sitting across from him, going on about his childhood, older sister, parents, and basically everything Baekhyun could care less about while he fidgets in his seat. The small restaurant is pretty cramped for a Thursday evening, most of the customers are businessmen out for a drink before going home, and maybe a handful of others look around his age. And every once in a while Chanyeol’s voice will rise above the commotion, earning the tall boy looks from every corner of the room.

“-and that’s how I ended up back in Seoul!” he ends, grinning at Baekhyun again. Baekhyun wonders if it’s impossible for the younger to ever frown. He politely nods his head, pretending he had been following along the whole time, while taking a sip of his cola. “So what about you?” Chanyeol asks, resting his head in one hand.

Baekhyun blinks. “Uh…nothing?”

The younger rolls his eyes. “Oh come on, there has to be  _something_  interesting about you!” he presses. “Like…any crazy friends?”

Baekhyun snorts. “I have no friends,” he says spitefully.

The answer obviously isn’t good enough for Chanyeol, who gives him a look. “Oh come on, there has to be some people.”

“Nope.”

Chanyeol frowns. “Okay, then…what about your family? Any siblings?”

“Older brother, moved to Japan, parents live in Bucheon, send me rent and the occasional holiday card.”

“I’m guessing you all aren’t close?”

“We used to be,” Baekhyun says, rolling his eyes, “But that was all before Jo-“ He stops abruptly.

“Before…?” Chanyeol pushes, but Baekhyun just shakes his head.

“N-nothing. It’s nothing,” he says quickly. Even he can hear the bullshit in his voice, but thanks to some spark of luck, their food arrives and Chanyeol’s stomach outweighs his mind for the time being.

The different types of mixed rice and dumplings actually smell delectable, and Baekhyun finds his self hungry for the first time in a while. He’s almost overwhelmed by the choices. Chanyeol must notice his eagerness, as he laughs and tells Baekhyun to, “Dig in!”

The food is as great as it looks, and Baekhyun actually begins to feel a little better. Chanyeol’s still talking and occasionally food will fall out of his mouth, but he’ll laugh at himself and continue on. Baekhyun will nod, eyes focused on the other’s, and every once in a while his eyes will flicker down to Chanyeol’s lips.

“So did you hear about the claustrophobic astronaut?”

“No?”

“He needed some space.”

Baekhyun snorts on his food, trying to keep himself composed. But he can’t help the small smile form on his lips at the other’s lameness.

“Oh!” Chanyeol says suddenly, and Baekhyun looks over at him.

“What?” he asks.

Chanyeol doesn’t answer right away. He’s looking at Baekhyun, in a way that almost makes the elder feel vulnerable. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile,” Chanyeol says softly. Not really knowing what to say to that, Baekhyun has to blush and look away. “You should smile more often…” Chanyeol adds, a smile appearing on his lips as well.

Baekhyun meekly hums in response, playing with the hem of his shirt. It’s not like it mattered; he smiled because the joke was lame, not because of Chanyeol.

That would be ridiculous.

After a few awkward moments of silence, Baekhyun clumsily stands up. “I-um…I’m going to the restroom.”

Chanyeol just nods. “We can leave if you’re done, I’ll get the check.”

“No!” Baekhyun says quickly. Having him pay for dinner means this was a date. And it definitely was not. “We can split-“

“Too bad,” Chanyeol teases, sticking out his tongue and pulling out his wallet. “If it’s painful to watch, go now.”

Groaning, Baekhyun walks to the back of the restaurant, mumbling about dumb boys and dumb dates. Chanyeol is just making things harder for himself, because Baekhyun’s not interested in dating or falling in love ever again. The first time obviously didn’t work out.

 

 

 

_…I’ve been in love with you_

_For almost three years._

           

 

He sucks in a breath. He shouldn’t have gone there.

When he walks into the restroom, he’s pleased to note that he’s the only one in at the moment. Walking over to the sink, he runs his hands under the cool water and splashes someone his face. It feels good on his skin, refreshing and-

“Hyunnie!”

He freezes.

Jongin is waving frantically at the elder in the mirror. He’s practically see through, as Baekhyun is able to see the outline of the bathroom stalls where his chest should be. “I’m here!” he says happily, all smiles. 

He’s not dehydrated or tired. He just ate. There shouldn’t be any hallucinations of Jongin. He shouldn’t be here now.

But there he is.

Baekhyun rushes past him out the door.

Chanyeol is still at the table, smiling as Baekhyun walks back. “Ready to go?” he asks. Baekhyun can only nod.

 

 

 

___

 

 

 

That night, when Baekhyun tucks himself into bed, he steps in the darkness, watching the shadows play across the walls, the light from the window of his room creating the players. He watches as the shadows run from the light, scared of its pure and wholesome touch. They retreat into the darkness, getting lost in the dark corners of the room where they hide.

He feels fingers brush through his bangs, working their way down his face and across his jaw. “Sleep,” Jongin says gently.

But he doesn't.

 

 

 

___

 

 

 

The call from a week later Joonmyun is unappreciated, but expected.

The door to his office is open and inviting, and his soft voice calls him foreword as he trudges down the steps of the apartment lobby. The space is crammed more than comfortable, fading white walls turning into an ashy grey from the sun and cigarettes Joonmyun swears he never uses. The elder’s desk is buried under papers and he’s feverishly scribbling some numbers on the back of an envelope with one hand, reaching for a cup of coffee with the other.

Baekhyun figures he might as well come out with it. “I’m sorry, I don’t have the money this month, my dad is in the process of getting a raise, and he hasn’t been home and my mom doesn’t have time between her shifts and I’ve been so busy with school that-“

“Actually, that’s not why I’ve called you in,” Joonmyun says, eyes looking up from the envelope. “I just wanted to know more about that boy who was here last week.” He takes a sip of his coffee and motions towards the seat opposite him for Baekhyun to sit in.

Baekhyun raises his eyebrow. “Did I break a rule?”

Joonmyun shakes his head. “Nope. You’re good. I just would like to know more about him.” He motions to the chair again.

Baekhyun scoffs, but sits down. “Why? You’re acting like my mother.”

“If I recall correctly, you called me ‘Umma’ your first month living here,” the elder teases, giving Baekhyun a knowing smile. Baekhyun pouts, remembering how much hand holding he needed after moving out of his parent’s house. Looking back, he acted like a bigger child than was probably necessary.

Joonmyun chuckles at Baekhyun’s reaction. “Anyway, tell me about this guy.”

“What do you want me to say? He’s my partner for my psychology project.”

“Is he nice?”

"I guess..." Baekhyun narrows his eyes. “Are you trying to get me situated here?”

“ _Maybe_ …” Joonmyun winks, but his face turns sober quickly after. “It’s just for the past few weeks you’ve been… _gloomy_.”

“’ _Gloomy_ ’?” Baekhyun repeats. He tries hard to sound offended, but deep down he knows his attitude has become increasingly darker ever since… _he’s_ been back.

Joonmyun nods, taking another sip of coffee. “You’ve been sulking around the building. Not saying that you were chipper and exuberant before, just…less dejected.”

Baekhyun sighs and rolls his head back against the seat. “It’s just this project. It’s eating at me.” Among other things, but he wouldn’t dare mention that. “What’s Chanyeol got to do with it?”

Joonmyun shrugs. “Nothing I guess.” His computer  _pings_ and he sighs, fingers nimbly moving across the keys. “Just he seems like a nice guy and maybe you two should hang out.”

“He’ll brighten me up like a new light bulb,” Baekhyun sasses back, rolling his eyes.

Joonmyun sighs again. “I’m just worried for you,” he says.

Baekhyun takes a breath, calming the voices in his head. “I’m fine, thanks Joonmyun.” He stands up, stretching as he goes. Joonmyun sighs again, but says nothing, knowing that Baekhyun’s mind is made up and talking won’t change anything.

“If you’re sure…”

Baekhyun gives a small smile. “I hope so, too,” he says under his breath as he turns to go, and quietly shuts door on his way out.

 

 

 

___

 

 

 

“When was the last time you slept?”

Baekhyun groans out a response, words mumbled and meshed into an incoherent sentence that he can’t bother to unscramble to Chanyeol. Ever since they  ~~went out~~  hung out, Baekhyun hasn’t slept a wink. When’s he conscious, he can’t take his eyes of the shadows on his walls, the ones that move and dance like they’re alive and thriving. When he does begin to doze off, he feels a cool body press against his, with long, tan arms finding their way around his waist.

He would rather go without sleep than feel Jongin.

Chanyeol’s eyes are full of concern, and Baekhyun can practically read the other’s mind. “Maybe you should see a doctor-“

“No, I’m fine. It’s just this project,” he cuts off, snapping at the younger. “It’s stressing me out.”

Chanyeol frowns. “Then you should let me take more of the workload so you can sleep.”

Baekhyun wants to hit his head against a wall. Park Chanyeol is too nice and innocent for his own good. One day it’ll kill him. “I said I’m fine.” He narrows his eyes when Chanyeol opens his mouth again to protest. “No,” he says firmly, before walking away to catch up with the rest of their class.

Every semester the Psychology department sponsors a trip to a Clinic, where a select group of students are paired with a doctor to sit in on appointments and experience “hands on learning.” Though every student in the class knows this routine is complete bullshit, and the students just hang out in the staff room to watch television and eat the food laid out for them. No one cares that much about patients yet.

“This is dumb…” Baekhyun mumbles as they are herded into the small, white room. There’s food already on the table, and some kids start grabbing chopsticks and bowls as soon as they walk in.

“At least the food smells good,” Chanyeol says next to him, picking up a bowl himself. Baekhyun rolls his eyes, and skips out on the food to grab a seat on the putrid green couch. Maybe he’ll take a nap for the four hours they’re scheduled to be here.

Liking the idea, he shuts his eyes, shifting into a more comfortable sitting position and steadying his breathing. The chatter of the other students around him isn’t that bothersome, and maybe if he concentrates hard enough, he can block them out. He focuses on his breathing, counting to ten before inhaling and exhaling. In through his nose, out through his mou-

“I got you some food!”

He’s sprung up from his seat as Chanyeol sits next to him, holding out a bowl. Baekhyun is tempted to dump the contents on his partner. “I was trying to sleep, asshole,” he hisses, sneering at the bowl. He curls into himself, looking in the opposite direction of Chanyeol. The younger sighs and sets the bowl down.

“Well, it’s here when you’re hungry…”

Baekhyun mumbles something unflattering and tries calming himself down again. In through the nose… out through the mouth. Ten seconds per inhale, ten per exhale. The students around him continue talking, and he feels Chanyeol’s foot tap against the couch every other breath, but eventually Baekhyun feels himself drifting off.

A little nap never hurt anyone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“ _DON’T LET THEM TAKE ME_!”

The shriek of raw fear slices through Baekhyun’s silence, awakening him abruptly. He hears voices around him, but still disoriented from sleep, he can only see moving shadows and colors. He rubs his eyes, trying to wake up, when another shriek is heard. “ _LEAVE ME ALONE_!”

It’s the voice of a female, Baekhyun realizes. When he feels like he’s conscious enough, he attempts to stand, but struggles from the confines of a blanket he doesn’t remember putting on. “The fuck…?” he curses, attempting to untangle himself and get off the couch. Another scream from the same voice is heard, and he snaps his head towards the direction of the cry.

His classmates, including Chanyeol, are standing by the door, all looking out in the hall. Some have looks of horror on their faces, while others are standing in disbelief. One girl is against the wall, looking like she’ll burst into tears any minute.

Baekhyun leaps off the couch and into the mass of bodies, craning his neck to see what’s going on. Between the heads he can make out a few men in well-pressed suits struggling against…a person? The woman who screamed earlier? He can see legs kicking and fists flying and someone is definitely fighting back. But before he can get a good enough glimpse, a secretary is shooing them all back into the room. “Nothing to see here! Everyone back in!” she sings in a very fake, very nervous voice.

Baekhyun presses himself against the wall, sliding out of the herd and looking once more out the door. It is a woman, he sees. Three men have her pinned on her knees. She’s thrashing her head back and forth, growling like a wild animal. When her head turns towards his direction, he sees her eyes, wild and untamed and not all there and downright disturbing. She lets out another shriek, desolate and feral. “ _PLEASE LET ME GO. THEY’LL FIND ME_.” A young woman steps behind her with a needle, handing it to one of the men, but his vision is blocked when the nurse comes back around to shut the door.

The woman’s scream is still heard through the wood.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Schizophrenia, they whisper on the bus ride back to school.

Woman cracked, the boys say through their chewing gum.

Awful delusions, girls pass along between stoplights.

“The nurses were saying how the woman’s husband committed suicide a few months ago,” Chanyeol says softly. “She watched as he took his own life.”

Baekhyun’s glad his lips are chapped and shut together or else he might throw up.

 

 

 

 

__

 

 

 

 

Baekhyun goes right to the drug store after school, not wasting time going back to his apartment first. He needs to sleep. He just knows that if he goes to bed tonight without any aid he’ll have nightmares of the wild woman screaming for help.

There are no under the counter medications specifically designed for sleep, but Baekhyun knows of a few cold and sinus pills that have whatever drug is used for deep slumber. Those will have to do.

He walks slowly down the aisle, whishing that the store would turn up the heat.  _It’s the end of October for fuck’s sake_ … he thinks to himself, stuffing his hands inside his jacket for more warmth.

Brightly colored boxes are lined up in rows on the shelves, and Baekhyun feels a bit overwhelmed at all the brands, not knowing exactly which one to buy. He squints down at a yellow box when a tan hand points down a shelf lower.

“Bottom shelf,” Jongin says. “That’s what you’re looking for.”

Baekhyun slowly nods his head and sinks down onto his calves to reach the bottom shelf. He wills himself to not look at  _him_. He picks up a blue box with a cartoon moon and bed on the front.

“Hyunnie! Aren’t you proud of me?” Jongin asks, kneeling down next to him. Baekhyun can smell the reek of cigarette smoke. “Now I can follow you everywhere you go!”

He drops the box.

Jongin giggles, picking it up for him and holding it out. “It was hard figuring it out, but I got it! You saw me at the restaurant, right? And the café a few weeks ago?” Baekhyun says nothing back, just picks up another box on the shelf, ignoring the box he dropped, and stands up. Jongin follows. “ _Hyunnie_ ,” he whines, “Please talk to me! I want to hear you…”

Baekhyun turns to him.

Jongin looks different. More alive than before. His skin is darker, less pale and more like its natural color. He’s also now wearing darker jeans instead of the tattered pair.

“Go away,” Baekhyun whispers, too afraid to say anything louder.

Jongin scoffs. “Are you kidding? After all the work it took for me to get here?” He reaches a hand out and flicks Baekhyun’s head. “Pabo…”

His forehead stings.

“But it’s okay now,” he says, smiling. “We can be together all the time.”

The night hallucinations make sense. He’s tired from the day’s activities and lack of food, so feeling and seeing something while you’re half conscious is expected. But in the afternoon in the middle of a drugstore? He must have been slipped something at the Clinic. One of the patient’s medications, maybe.

“You’re not real,” Baekhyun says, a little louder than before, as if convincing himself. “You’re a figment of my imagination from a lack of sleep and nutrition. You don’t exist.”

Jongin laughs, and puts his hand up to his heart. “That hurts me, Hyunnie.” He turns his body and leans against the shelf. “But nope. I’m here to stay and keep my eye on you.” He blows Baekhyun a kiss before shuffling through his pockets. “So anyway, I was rereading my letter, and I thought I’d point some things out-“

Baekhyun ignores him, walking back up to the front of the store with a faster pace than usual. He has to get home and get some sleep.

“I’ll see you at home than!” Jongin calls after him.

And that’s when it hits him.

What if he doesn’t go home?

 

 

__

 

 

 

“Um, hey, Chanyeol-“

“Hey Baekhyun! What’s up? Need anything?”

“Err…well…um…there’s this…um…a water main break at my apartment-“

“Is everything okay?”

“Well, yeah but um…my landlord doesn’t want us to stay there tonight while they get things fixed-“

“Oh! Well if you need a place to stay I have a pull-out couch that’s pretty comfy, and since we don’t have class tomorrow we can work on the project some more-“

“Yeah sure fine, what’s your address?”

 

 

 

 

 

__

 

 

 

  

 

“It’s gonna be really big on you, but I don’t have anything smaller…” Chanyeol says sheepishly, holding out a pair of obnoxiously hideous orange sweatpants. Baekhyun feels like he needs sunglasses.

“No, it’ll be fine,” he replies, trying not to make a face. “I like my sleepwear a little big anyway.”

Chanyeol grins (as if that’s new) and points him to the bathroom. “Shower if you want. And there’s an extra toothbrush or two in the bottom cabinet. Can’t have you stinking up my couch.”

Despite his efforts, Baekhyun gives a weak smile. “Thanks,” he says softly, and turns to the bathroom.

Steam quickly fills the small room, Baekhyun liking his showers hot. He can’t help but feel a little impressed over how clean and organized everything is. The towels are perfectly folded on the side of the sink, the bottles of shampoo and body wash are lined up on the shelf, and even the toilet looks perfectly hygienic. Baekhyun makes a mental note to clean his bathroom when he gets home.

Stepping out of his clothes, he shivers as the air hits his naked skin, feeling Goosebumps pop up on the spot. Shaking, he quickly reaches for a cloth to wash up with, when he catches his reflection in the mirror. He never realized how pale he had gotten. Or how skinny. He’s always been small and thin, but he can easily count his protruding ribs down his chest. His skin looks almost papery, as if he’ll dissolve if handled too rough. He had expected the black circles under his eyes, but now they’re emphasized from residing cheeks and jutting cheekbones.

He looks like death. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chanyeol has the couch ready for him when he leaves the bathroom.

The younger is already asleep, and for some reason, is lying on the floor underneath a mound of blankets. Baekhyun resists the urge to smack him awake, and just dances around his body to get onto the couch. The younger is snoring, and he remembers the box of pills he bought earlier, wondering if he should take one. Just in case.

But the bag is on the other side of the room, and he doesn’t feel like dancing around Chanyeol again, so he presses a pillow against the younger’s head to muffle the sound before snuggling into his blankets. He finds himself getting drowsy, which pleases him. He actual might sleep tonight.

Before he completely falls asleep, he makes a mental note to thank Chanyeol in the morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

           

He swears he hears tapping on glass that night, but it must be his imagination.

 

 

 

__

 

 

           

He wakes up to the sound of crackling and the smell of bacon.

Chanyeol can apparently cook.

They talk about nothing over eggs and coffee, Chanyeol asking questions and Baekhyun answering. They sit, they smile, they occasionally laugh (Chanyeol laughs, Baekhyun giggles) and Baekhyun doesn’t find himself wanting to hide away in the shadows. He wants dabble in the light, taking the lead in the conversation once in a while, before steering it back to Chanyeol. He realizes how much he enjoys the way Chanyeol’s voice sounds, how much he likes watching the younger’s eye twitch, how much he likes it when the other smiles.

"Hey, Chanyeol?" he asks, about halfway through their day.

The younger looks up expectantly.

Baekhyun bites his lips for a moment, before gently saying, "Thank you."

Chanyeol is all smiles now and he bashfully accepts the kindness, and Baekhyun smiles back.

Baekhyun wonders if he could always be in the light.

 

 

 

__

           

 

           

He leaves Chanyeol’s late that afternoon. They get a good chunk of their project done, research finished and drafting done, and he’s starting to feel good about it, proud almost. “First group to get an ‘A’!” Chanyeol had enthusiastically predicted. Or course, an A is near impossible, but if you’re Chanyeol, nothing seems too out of reach. So Baekhyun nodded along, aiming for that A for Chanyeol.

He’s surprisingly in a good mood, for the first time in a while. He had a full night’s sleep, had a full meal, and even held his own in a conversation that lasted for hours. He feels high off of his accomplishments.

This spark of life makes him feel almost giddy. He even says good morning to Joonmyun on his way into the building. The elder just smiles back, no doubt knowing where he was.

His high takes him up the stairs, down the hall, and through his door. Hell, he may even call his parents to see what they’re up to; maybe even his brother if it’s not too late-

“I couldn’t get to you last night.”

Baekhyun had almost forgotten.

Jongin is sitting on the couch, cigarette in hand, one leg crossed over the other. His foot taps impatiently against the small wooden table in front of his seat. He takes a drag. “I was stuck outside,” he continues, “And I couldn’t get in the room.”

 _Good,_  Baekhyun thinks, but dare not vocalizing.

“He’s too good for you,” Jongin breathes, letting out the cigarette smoke. “He’s too bright.” His eyes are dark, darker than before. He’s still in black, but Baekhyun notices how he’s now in a button up dress shirt.

It’s like he’s getting stronger.

Jongin takes one last puff of the cigarette before throwing it to the ground to put it out. He stomps on the butt, cinders and ashes staining the wood. “You shouldn’t crave something you can’t have,” he says, darkly.

This makes Baekhyun angry. “Why can’t I want something?” he demands, stepping towards the man on his couch. “You don’t own me! I can do whatever I want-”

He feels a block crash against his chest, a sturdy wall slamming into him that sends Baekhyun toppling to the ground. He feels cold hands press against his neck, gradually adding pressure and constricting his throat, making breathing near impossible. Jongin is calm and collected on top of him. “Baekhyun…” he says gently, like a mother cooing over her child. He smiles down towards the elder, admiring how his face is turning a pretty shade of red. “You keep playing this…suffocating-“ he presses down a little harder, emitting a gasp from the man underneath him, “-game of hide-and-seek with me.” He leans forward, adding more pressure to his hands and he reaches down to meet Baekhyun’s ear. “ _You’re inseparable from me_ ,” he whispers, holding onto Baekhyun’s throat for a moment more before realizing.

Baekhyun gasps and chokes as air rushes back into his lungs. His own hands grab his throat in pain and shock and  _fear._  Jongin continues to straddle him, admiring the view of a torn and tattered Baekhyun. “You’re so lovely when disheveled,” he speaks softly, letting his fingers trace over the elder’s neck, feeling pleased in knowing it will bruise by the next day.

Eventually he gets up, giving Baekhyun’s body a slight kick when he fully stands. “Don’t run away from me,” is the last thing Baekhyun hears before Jongin disappears into the bedroom.

 

 

 

__

           

           

 

He stays in bed the next day, refusing to leave his apartment.

He had sent a message to Chanyeol the night before, something along the lines of, “Not feeling well, won’t be in tomorrow. Better stay away, might be stomach bug,” and the younger quickly replied that if he needed anything to just ask.

And Baekhyun had shut down his phone and buried under his covers.

Jongin is sitting in the other room, waiting for Baekhyun to come out and talk to him, as if Baekhyun was the one who needed to form an apology. Every once in a while, he’ll call through the thin walls, “Whenever you’re ready to talk, just come out!” and wait a moment or two to see if Baekhyun makes any change of movement. When they’re none, and Baekhyun just buries deeper into the covers, Jongin will light a cigarette and smoke for an hour before calling again.

Baekhyun toys with the idea of calling someone up, Joonmyun or even his neighbor. He wonders if their presence will make Jongin go away. But the thought of pulling someone else under with him stabs at his heart; he couldn’t let anyone else live in this shadow.

They didn’t deserve it.

By early evening, Baekhyun can only guess by the position of the sun through his window, Jongin must have become fed up with his stoic mindset and knocks on the door. “Hyunnie, be out in five minutes or I’ll walk in there myself,” he says, hard and rough. No doubt he’ll come in uninvited, and Baekhyun cannot have a repeat like last night.

So he slowly gets up, throwing on jeans and a new shirt, not daring to look in a mirror, before walking out.

Jongin is leaning against the kitchen counter, watching him as he moves forward. He offers a smile. “Morning, sleepy head,” he says in his loving tone. He extends a hand out, but Baekhyun ignores it, choosing to stand in the same spot, a good seven feet from where Jongin is. He can still smell smoke.

“Do you have anything to say to me?” Jongin asks, expectantly, raising an eyebrow. His face screams innocence at that moment and Baekhyun shivers.

“Whatever, whatever you’re d-doing to m-me,” he says slowly, clenching a fist as he speaks. “This isn’t love, Jongin. It just  _hurts_  me.”Jongin says nothing, just stares, so Baekhyun continues, “You think I still love you. Well I don’t Jongin. I loved you, but I  _don’t_  now!” Tears begin to form from the memories, how things used to be, how they are now…everything hurts.

“ _Why Jongin?_ ” he sobs, hot tears streaming down his face and onto his shirt. Hands shaking, knees wobbling, throat constricting. “Why are you doing this to me? Can’t you leave me alone?”

 

 

 

_I’ll wait for you…_

 

 

 

Jongin laughs at this, moving from against the counter up to Baekhyun. He wraps his arms around Baekhyun’s shoulders, nuzzling into the soft skin of the smaller’s neck. He rumbles from the back of his throat, before pressing a cold kiss onto soft skin. “ Because I promised,” he says, so softly and distant that Baekhyun almost misses it.

Almost.

 

_I promise…_

 

 

 

 “I promised,” Jongin says again, louder and with more feeling. “I promised that I’d always love you, and that I’d make everything better for you - for us.”

“But it’s not love, Jongin! It never was!” Baekhyun fervently yells as he pushes out of the taller’s grasp. “This isn’t love!” He moves backwards, eyes on Jongin’s every move as he tries to make his way towards the door.

Jongin smiles. “You just don’t know love.” He takes a step forward and Baekhyun takes one back, arms and legs ready to flee at any moment. Jongin’s smile wavers, eyes growing dark. “Wherever you are…” Reaching out towards Baekhyun, he whispers, “I will always be there for you.”

“But you’re  _dead_ , Jongin!” Baekhyun wails, fighting from younger’s grip. “You should be  _gone_!”

Jongin’s eyes go dark again, pupils dilating in the most horrific way, mouth contorting into a sadistic smirk. “But you’re the reason I’m here...” he growls, reaching out again towards Baekhyun’s throat.

“ _No_!” Baekhyun screams, pushing the man’s hands away. “I had  _nothing_  to do with it!” But Jongin is stronger, shoving him against the wall in a matter of seconds. Fiery hands make their way to Baekhyun’s body, underneath clothes, over skin, through hair, and everything  _burns_. Baekhyun screams again, trying to find the energy to push the other off of him, but Jongin simply grabs his hands and holds them out of the way and puts his mouth once again onto Baekhyun’s skin.

Wrists caught in younger’s grasp and legs weak in fright, Baekhyun can do nothing but sob as he’s violated, feeling Jongin map out his skin with his mouth. “I’ve never touched you like this before…” he smirks into Baekhyun’s neck. His hands tighten around his wrists and Baekhyun shouts at the pain, adrenaline coursing through him in that instant. He brings his knee up and kicks Jongin has hard as he can, catching the latter off guard and falling over.

He doesn’t wait for a response before he’s running out the door, not even shutting it as he goes by. He races down the hall to the stairwell, tripping over every other step and nearly falling down as he goes, but nothing stops him. He keeps running; afraid that if he halts Jongin will find him.

He needs to get out of here.

 

 

 

__

 

           

 

“Hello-  _Baek_? What are you-“

Baekhyun cuts Chanyeol off by throwing himself into his arms, letting out a desperate sob as he claws the taller’s shirt. He knees finally give out and he’s falling to the floor.

Chanyeol gasps as he tries to get a hold onto the elder, arms wrapping around his waist and keeping him steady. “Baek! What happened?” Chanyeol asks frantically, eventually giving up on trying to pick the smaller up and gently setting him down onto the floor. “Are you hurt?”

Baekhyun sobs louder. He doesn’t know if he’s hurt or fucking insane or being haunted and yes, everything does hurt, his whole body is aching, his head, his heart, his  _being_. Everything hurts.

With no answers to go off of, Chanyeol chooses to tighten his grip, bringing Baekhyun closer to his body and holding him as he cries. “It’s okay,” he coos softly, rubbing his hands up and down Baekhyun’s back. “Everything’s okay.”

Baekhyun shakes his head, wailing, “No it’s  _not_ ,” into the other’s shirt. He still feels Jongin’s touch, his mouth on his skin, hands on his body. He feels violated, dirty. He feels Jongin on him, breathing him in, crawling up from behind.

           

 

 

_I promise to never let you go._

 

 

 _He’s everywhere_.

“H-h w-won’t le-ave me a-a- _lone_ ,” he sobs, tugging Chanyeol’s shirt harder.

He feels Chanyeol’s hand stop. “Wh-who?” Chanyeol’s asks slowly, voice wavering in confusion and alarm.

“H-he’s e-veryw-where! I-I can’t s-stop se-seeing him!”

“Who Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asks, voice now strong and angry. He pries Baekhyun off of him to hold his shoulders and look into his eyes. “Who are you talking about?”

Baekhyun doesn’t meet Chanyeol’s eye, choosing to cover his face with his hands. “J-Jongin,” he whispers, voice hardly recognizable with the sobbing.

The air is thick as he waits for Chanyeol’s response.

“Jongin?” Chanyeol repeats, slow and unsure.

And Baekhyun sobs anew.

 

         

 

__

 

 

 

 

When Baekhyun walks out of the shower, feeling no less dirty and filthy than the night before, Chanyeol has two cups of coffee sitting on the kitchen table. The younger says nothing as he walks into the room, so Baekhyun quietly slides into the chair across from him, not wanting to break the silence.

They stay still for a few minutes, neither knowing where to begin.

Baekhyun starts. “Chanyeol, I’m sorry-“

“Don’t,” the other cuts in sharply. He shakes his head, sighing. “I don’t know what happened last night, Baekhyun,” he looks up, “But you’re going to tell me everything.”

The elder bites his lip and looks away, afraid he may start crying again. “I don’t think-“

“Baekhyun, if someone is trying to hurt you, you need to tell someone,” Chanyeol says firmly. “We need to go to the police or-“

“No! I can’t!” he wails, hanging his head in his hands. He feels tears forming again and he wants to punch himself for being so weak. “They can’t do anything.”

“Of course they-“

“No Chanyeol, they can’t!” Baekhyun snaps, slamming his fist on the table. “Jongin’s not some criminal you can lock up, he’s not fucking  _real_  and if I go to the police they’ll fucking send me to an asylum and call me mentally insane,  _okay_?” He can’t stop the tears from flowing now, and small sobs escape from his lips.

Chanyeol is silent, processing what the elder just told him. “S-so this…Jongin…isn’t  _real_?” he says slowly, monotone and neutral. Baekhyun nods, wiping some of the tears off of his face, and Chanyeol nods with him. “Okay…so how is he not real?”

Baekhyun gulps, clenching his fist again underneath the table. “H-he’s…he died…”

Chanyeol’s eyes go wide for a moment, but quickly go neutral. “How did he die?” he asks, tone still unbiased.

Baekhyun sucks in a breath. He’s never talked to anyone about Jongin’s death. Not his parents, not the psychiatrist he was forced to see, not even the police when he was asked to make a statement. He’s kept the darkness away, locked up and sealed so he would never have to relive it, never have to think about it again. But Chanyeol leans forward, asking again, “How did Jongin die?”

And Baekhyun opens his mouth and lets the floodgates open. He tells Chanyeol.

He tells Chanyeol  _everything_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“The police never looked further into the suicide?” Chanyeol asks, disbelieving.

Baekhyun wipes his eyes with a tissue. “Once they heard about his mental instability from his parents, they just blamed stress for a motive.” He sniffles, taking a pause in his story. “No one wants to believe those kinds of things. That a person can turn so…so monstrous for no reason. Even when a psychiatrist claimed a person with Jongin’s personality and symptoms was a Schizophrenic, everyone seemed to agree that stress was a more viable option.”

Chanyeol runs his fingers through his hair, taking another gulp of his third cup of coffee. “So no one questioned you about him? At all?”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “My parents thought it would be better to leave me out of it…especially since he was stalking me the last few months before he died.”

Chanyeol doesn’t reply right away. He rests his head on top of his folded hands, staring into space... thinking. Baekhyun takes a moment to breath. He almost feels relieved that this is off his chest, a little stronger.

“So maybe,” Chanyeol says slowly, “Maybe this hallucination of yours is a part of your subconscious …”

“What do you means?”

“I mean,” Chanyeol says, standing up to pace, “Maybe your subconscious still feels attached to Jongin. There’s something that keeps his memory alive, and now it’s being brought back up.”

“It’s that simple… ” Baekhyun says softly, looking down into his hands. There’s more to the story, a piece Chanyeol isn’t seeing and Baekhyun is telling. Something locked in the deepest darkness that not even Jongin can touch. “It still doesn’t explain why I’m conversing with him, or why I got physically hurt.” He rubs his hands over his neck, still bruised and blue from Jongin’s grasp.

Chanyeol stops pacing and leans against the wall. “I can’t answer that,” he sighs, “But…if you want him to go away, you need to put your subconscious to rest.” He pauses. “You have to kill the guilt.”

Baekhyun winces at the choice of words. “I-I don’t think I can do that…”

Chanyeol looks over to him with sad eyes, walking over and kneeling next to his seat. “You have to try,” he says softly.

“Chanyeol, he-he  _killed_  himself because of me. He jumped because he loved me. I can’t help but feel guilty!” he sobs, new tears springing out from his eyes. He hears Chanyeol sigh and feels the younger’s arms wrap around him.

“It’ll take some time,” he says, rubbing Baekhyun’s back, “But you need to do this. Start out small.” He pulls away. “Do you have anything that reminds you of him? Anything at all?”

Hesitating, Baekhyun squeezes his eyes shut, before slowly nodding.

“In the box,” he admits.

 

 

__

 

 

 

He can’t do it.

He can’t open the door.

Baekhyun takes a step back, cowering at the thought of Jongin waiting for him in the room. “W-what if h-he’s there?” he whispers, knees beginning to shake in fear. He’s about to make a break for it, running back to the safety of Chanyeol’s apartment, but the latter has a firm grip on his hand, fingers laced together.

“Then I’ll be here with you,” he offers, squeezing their hands tighter in reassurance. Baekhyun says nothing, only nods, giving Chanyeol to green light to open the door.

He gives a silent prayer before walking in after Chanyeol.

It’s quiet. From his perspective, the room looks exactly the way he had left it. His pack is still on the floor; textbooks are still lying out on the table. Dirty dishes are still in the sink, and even his glass of cola is still out on the counter.

The room doesn’t smell like smoke. Jongin hasn’t been here in a while.

Chanyeol takes a quick survey of the area before looking to Baekhyun. “Do you see him?” he asks.

Baekhyun slowly shakes his head. “No…I don’t see him…It doesn’t smell like smoke either.”

Chanyeol nods. “That’s good, maybe talking about him has put some part of him to rest.” He leans over to peer into the bedroom. “Is that where the box is?”

“Yeah, in the closet,” Baekhyun affirms, taking a few brave steps ahead of Chanyeol into his room. The bed is still unmade, and there is no smell of smoke here either. It helps Baekhyun relax a bit, enough to let go of Chanyeol’s hand and walk by himself over to the closet. There, tucked in the dark corners, is the black box. He pulls it out, surprised of the weight. He didn’t realize it was ever this heavy.

Chanyeol walks over and kneels down to open the lid. Inside, there are numerous pieces of paper: newspaper clippings with titles from “STUDENT JUMPS OFF APARTMENT COMPLEX TO DEATH” to “KIM STUDENT DECLARED STRESSED AND DEPRESSED”; letters written the last few months of Jongin’s life, each one detailing his love for the elder and how lucky he was to have him in his life; journal entries from Baekhyun during his freshman year describing how afraid he was of Jongin’s possessive behavior and how lonely he was when the younger scared all of his friends away; and the pictures: pictures of Jongin and Baekhyun back when they were in love, before Jongin changed and everything was ruined. Most of the pictures have Jongin with his arms wrapped around Baekhyun, kissing the elder’s cheek with affection.

 Baekhyun feels a wave of emotion hit him, crashing down with such force that Baekhyun feels like he might be sick. He clasps a hand over his mouth, swaying backwards for a moment at the memory of it all.

Chanyeol puts the lid back on, and then looks at Baekhyun. “Are you ready to dump it?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They triumphantly toss the box in a dumpster down the block, far away and out of sight from Baekhyun’s daily commute to school. He won’t be tempted to glance over at it. Chanyeol says the garbage comes very Tuesday, two days from now, and when it does the first part of Baekhyun’s road to recovery will be set.

Baekhyun could not be more relieved. 

 

 

 

__

 

 

 

“Yeah, and I still have your clothes from last week. Do you want to come pick them up?”

“Sure,” Chanyeol says, enthusiastically, “I can stop by after I drop something off at the post office, okay?”

“Sounds good! See you then!” Baekhyun ends the call and stuff his phone back into his pocket, fishing for his keys in his pack. He needs to remember to stop throwing them down to the bottom. “God dammit…” he mumbles, having a hard time reaching them. He groans in defeat, putting his pack on the floor and taking his textbooks out to make more room. Thankfully there’s a good amount of light coming from the lights, so Baekhyun doesn’t have to take too much out for him to reach his keys.

Huffing, he opens the door, dropping his pack off at its usual spot on the floor while kicking off his shoes. He puts the mail on the counter before pulling out two cups and searching through the refrigerator for something for him and Chanyeol to eat. When he sees nothing adequate, he sighs and closes the door with a little too much force, knocking the picture on the door off and onto the floor.

He blinks.

He doesn’t remember ever keeping a picture on his fridge.

Curious, he bends down to pick it up, wondering when he must have-

He freezes.

It’s Jongin’s picture; one that should have been thrown out a week ago.

 

 

 

_I just want you back…_

 

 

 _No_.

He’s slammed towards the wall before he can process what is happening, strong arms pinning him in place. It reeks like smoke and Baekhyun can’t breathe, heart banging against his ribs and blood rushing through his body.

 _I’m going to die_.

“So you think because he likes you and he doesn’t think your fucking insane, you can go and try to get rid of me.  _Is that it_?!” Jongin slams his head against the wall, hard enough for Baekhyun to momentarily black out. “Is this how you repay my love? Leaving me behind to rot to  _fuck_  someone else?”

Baekhyun tries to speak, tries to scream, but Jongin presses his arm harder into his throat. “You were always such a  _slut_ ,” he growls, voice sound less human as he speaks. “Always going behind my back to fuck whoever would bend you over. I can’t believe I put up with your shit, slut.”

A hot palm connects with his cheek, and Baekhyun sobs, babbling apologies and pleads to Jongin. “No  _no no no_ , I n-never cheated, Jongin please,  _please_  please let me g-go-”

“Why? So you’ll stab me in the back again?” He throws Baekhyun across the room, the smaller male sliding along the wood as if he were a rag doll. “So you’ll push me over the edge again?”

_That's right_

 

_I pushed Jongin off the edge._

 

 

 

“ _No_!” Baekhyun screams, making a break for the bedroom door, slamming it shut and locking it. He fumbles through his pocket to find his phone and call for help, but it’s slapped out of his hand.

“You feel guilty, don’t you, Hyunnie?” Jongin coos, voice laced with spite, taking Baekhyun’s wrist in his hand and gripping it with this strength. “You feel guilty for pushing me, don’t you?” Jongin clenches his fist and Baekhyun  _screams_ , feeling bones break and shatter.

 

 

_I pushed Jongin off the edge when he followed me up onto the roof of my building to shower me with unwanted affection. When months of countless phone calls and letters and presents and threats exploded into rage and hatred._

 

 

 

 

“ _I’m sorry_!” he wails, cowering to the ground in fear and pain. “ _I’m sorry_! I didn’t mean to! I was so afraid and hurt and angry that I just-“ He breathlessly screams again when Jongin kicks him in chest, gasping as the air is knocked out of him.

 

 

 

_I pushed Jongin off the edge when he had gotten too close. When I thought I was going to be the one to be pushed. When his eyes turned dark and his face twisted and his hand reached for my neck._

 

_I pushed Jongin off the edge because I thought I was going to die._

 

 

 

 

_I pushed Jongin off the edge because I wanted him dead._

 

 

 

“Maybe I didn’t mean to kill your friend. Wouldn’t that be  _tragic_ if he jumped off a roof, too? No reason in living when the one you love is psychotic,  _hmm_?”

“No!” Baekhyun gasps, attempting to get up off the ground. “D-don’t hurt him!” But he’s merely thrown into a corner, pushed aside.

Jongin scoffs at the sight of Baekhyun shaking and cowering in the corner. “You look good there, Hyunnie,” he says, tone laced with sarcasm. “Darkness does you well.” He walks over and kneels in front of the elder, holding up a piece of paper. “Remember this?” Jongin asks. “It’s my letter I gave you on the roof.  It was going to be my last letter to you.” He opens it up and pauses for a moment, rereading it quickly, sometimes smiling at the words. “I’d thought,  _if Baekhyun doesn’t want to love me anymore, that’s okay with me_ …” he says softly, voice returning to his usual tone before continuing, “ _Because I know that I love him enough for both of us_.” He smiles, and Baekhyun notices the tears forming in Jongin’s eyes.

“J-Jongin…” he says softly, but Jongin ignores him.

“I thought that if I apologized, you’d come back. We could try again. I could-“ his voice cracks, “-I could change.” Tears fall from his eyes, staining his cheeks and landing on Baekhyun’s shirt. The elder feels his throat close, his own eyes watering.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Jongin cries, “But I couldn’t help myself!”

He knows. He knows Jongin could never help himself; that his schizophrenia was the reason for his actions, the reason Baekhyun's pleads never reached his ears. The reason Baekhyun pushed himself away from his lover, and the reason Jongin always pushed back. Baekhyun always thought Jongin was becoming a monster - but really he was the monster for not being more understanding when Jongin needed him the most.

Baekhyun leans forward to cup Jongin’s face, wiping a trail of tears away. “Jongin,” he says softly.

Jongin sobs now, the tears falling harder and his body shaking. He cries for a few moments before he looks at Baekhyun, regret and despair painted in his face.

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” he sobs.

And Baekhyun lets out a sob of his own, heart aching and breaking into a thousand pieces. " _Jongin_ ," he wails again, bringing his hand up to caress the other's cheek. " _I'm sorry I pushed you._ "

Jongin leans in and presses a soft, warm kiss to Baekhyun's forehead. "I'm sorry I hurt you."           

"Do you still love me?"

"I always will. I promise."

 

  
 

 

__

 

 

 

Baekhyun’s screams lead the neighbors to phone the police, worried that the boy next door was in critical need. Chanyeol arrives first though. He sees the door wide open and he panics, sprinting in the apartment and finding chairs knocked over and what looks like blood on the wall. He fought with the bedroom door for what felt like hours, banging loud and shoving his shoulder against it, hoping the lock would break or the hinges would fall apart until the police arrived.

They found Baekhyun huddled in a corner, broken and bleeding but alive, unconscious from what the paramedics deemed as a seizure. He stayed three days in the hospital, sleeping dreamless until he woke up with Chanyeol at his side. After he explained what happened, that Jongin is no longer a threat, he agreed to see someone, someone to talk to.

To help him fade into light.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The psychiatrist is quiet and neutral, asking questions about Jongin and their relationship, sometimes about his family, always about Chanyeol. Baekhyun still hasn’t told her everything, but he feels better talking to her while they do crosswords then when he kept it all in.

“How’s Jongin?” she’ll ask casually, like they’re talking about a good friend.

“Lonely,” Baekhyun will answer. “But I’m seeing less of him these days. He says he wants to move on.”

“You should encourage him.”

“I do.”

 

 

They never get to finish their psychology project.

Dr. Hwang gives them both an excuse, but offers a paper instead to help boost their final grades. Baekhyun writes about the mental struggles of a Schizophrenic, and how they can live among average citizens. He also writes on how the country should take more care for them. Chanyeol writes about living with someone going through a mental illness and how to fully support them.

They both receive A-s, not exactly Chanyeol’s’ perfect A, but they’ll take it.

 

 

 

Baekhyun moves in with Chanyeol, friends at first, lovers soon after.

Baekhyun doesn’t know what he’d do without Chanyeol. The younger is patient with him, especially during his hard times, when memories resurface and he bursts into tears and locks himself in his room for hours on end.

When he does come out, Chanyeol always greets him with a smile. 

"I love you," he'll say.

"I love you, too," Baekhyun will answer.

 

 

 

 

He graduates college a year later with Chanyeol. 

His parents and brother attend, and when they return to their apartment they all hold each other, making up for lost time and promising to be more of a family.

They welcome Chanyeol as well and Baekhyun has never felt more complete.

 

 

 

Jongin visits sometimes.

When they are sleeping and Baekhyun is wrapped in Chanyeol’s arms, Jongin will watch quietly from the corner of the room. He doesn’t say anything, but the meaning is there:

_Make sure he takes care of you, like I never did._

Sometimes, before bed while he’s getting undressed, he’ll talk out loud about his day, just in case Jongin is listening.

Sometimes when he sleeps, he feels the soft press of lips against his forehead, and he'll mumble a "Thank you, Jongin," because he knows it's him.

 

 

 

Chanyeol works as a psychiatrist. Baekhyun wants to teach. Both are moving on with their lives.

And Baekhyun shines like the sun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The last letter of Kim Jongin to Byun Baekhyun:

 

_Hyunnie,_

 

_I’m writing to you for the first time, isn’t that strange?_

_How we’ve known each other for all this time, yet we’ve never written to each other before. But it’s okay, because I know that seeing each other in person is better than not seeing each other at all, even through a letter!_

_Anyway, I just wanted to let you know how much I love you._

_It’s almost scary to think that I’ve been in love with you for almost three years, but every moment was worth it! Seeing you smile and laugh when it was just the two of us, seeing you blush when we kissed, watching you as you slept, it all makes me so happy._

_I know you’re mad at me, but please_ , please  _come back. I can’t apologize enough to you. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m sorry I hurt you. I just want you back._

_I’ll wait for you, Hyunnie! Until you’re ready, I can wait! Even if you don’t love me anymore, I can wait!_

_Even if I’m dead, I’ll still love you._  
 

_I promise to make everything better._

_I promise to love you forever._

_I promise to never let you go._

 

_Jongin_

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
